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there is a sickness within you

Summary:

A piece of prose poetry on being sick, wanting to get better, creating your own choices when you don't like the ones given to you, and a realisation.

This was originally written as a vent piece.

Notes:

theres no context or background to this at all except like, intense mental illness and self hatred. im doing fine rn, this is just an upload of smth i wrote wayyy at the beginning of quarantine when i felt awful.

format is smth i hadnt really tried before, but i quite liked how it turned out tbh. only edited slightly from the og vent that i scribbled into a notebook lol.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

there is a sickness within you.

would you like to kill it?

[YES] [NO]

[YEStoo violent, too harsh, too unforgiving. where is your mercy? what if your sickness feels?

[NO] it spreads through you, festering in the flesh and rotting your core. you do nothing. it kills you. 

 

there is a sickness within you.

would you like some help?

[YES] [NO]

[YESyou go to your closest friend and tell them of your sickness. your friend grows fearful for you. "it is ugly," they say. "do not ever speak of it again.", so you don't. your sickness hurts like a feral pup. you ache to lick the festering wounds. one day, the ache stops, and you stop too.

[NOthis will not be a repeat of last time. you hunt on your own for knowledge on what to do, but word of your sickness never leaves the back of your aching throat. no one else ever knows. too soon, your sickness spreads, and takes over every aspect of your life. your mornings, your evenings, your long, long nights overrun with a sick, desperate search, and then the sickness takes that too.

 

there is a sickness within you.

what would you like to do?

[LOOK FOR AN EXPERT'S ADVICE] [IGNORE IT UNTIL IT GOES AWAY]

[LOOK FOR AN EXPERT'S ADVICE] the expert does not exist. the expert is you. you know nothing of your sickness, and your sickness kills you.

[IGNORE IT UNTIL IT GOES AWAY] a struggle builds as you try to keep a spreading sickness contained. you ignore its call. it seems to work, until it doesn't, and you begin to feels worse and worse every day. when you finally check on your sickness, it devours you like a rabid dog, unforgiving and relentless. rotting flesh and festering core and all. nothing of you remains. your body is of the sickness. 

 

there is a sickness within-

[NO]

no?

[THE SICKNESS IS NOT WITHIN. THE SICKNESS IS ME, AND I AM THE SICKNESS]

hm. okay. fine.

you are a sickness. you cannot change your very nature. you - the sickness - grow stronger until there is not human flesh nor human core left behind. a revolting sickness, a threat, a danger, a menace.

[NO-]

your friends and family see your innate self. you - the disgusting sickness -, flayed open and raw and horrendous. they perceive your true self, and deem you lost forever, consumed by a sickness. consumed by yourself. 

[NO!]

it - the sickness - your sickness - you - kill your very being.

are you happy now? to have discovered the sickness is you, and you are the sickness? intrinsically linked, forever inseparable?

[NO]

too bad. because that's what you are. a sickness. a blight on this world. your happiness is inconsequential. you will be eradicated soon, no matter what choices you make.

[...]

 

there is a sickness within you, and that sickness is you, and that sickness will leave festering flesh and that sickness will rot your core and that sickness is your core. there is not a single part of you that is not sick.

there never has been.

would you like to kill it?

Notes:

i dont write a whole lot, so any feedback in comments or kudos is really appreciated. thanks for reading <3